


Cain and Abel

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Religious imagery in this one wasn’t expecting that, shes 18 and Jane’s abt mid20’s, teenage Emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Emma is only a little bit jealous of Jane. What’s more important is how she has to get out of Hatchetfield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Cain and Abel

Emma peered out of the front door, shivering at the chill of the snow on her bare arms. She grinned, her sister had her back turned to her.

“Emma, go put some proper clothes on,” her father sighed. He was sitting on the front step with a cup of coffee, midway through a chat with Jane. 

“Yeah, I’m just looking at the snow, dad,” she explained, shoving her shoes into her boots without tying the shoe laces and stepping past him into the snow.  
It crunched beneath her boots as she wandered through the front garden. 

“Hey Emma,” Jane greeted her as she crouched down in the snow behind her.

“Morning,” she waved to her older sister before she began pushing the snow on the ground into a small pile. “Snowman?” 

“Yeah. I think I’m going to call him Stan, maybe.” She turned around to look at Emma.

“Yeah, that suits,” Emma nodded, scooping the mush into a ball.

“Emma, put some gloves on if you’re playing in the snow. You’re eighteen now, you aren’t a kid,” her dad called out in his grumbly voice from his seat. 

“Hey Jane?” Emma asked, wiping one hand down on her pyjama shirt to wipe the snowmelt off her numb fingers.

“Yeah?” Her sister turned around from the snowman she was building. 

“Do you know the story of Cain and Abel?” She cupped up her snowball in her hand, brushing off the unevenness around the sides with light fingers. 

“Hahah, yeah, I think? Why?” Jane glimpsed the snowball in Emma’s bare palms before turning back to her snowman and patting it down. 

Emma shrugged, giving her a thoughtful look like it was just an idea that crossed her mind, and was completely irrelevant.  
“No reason.”  
Emma’s understanding of the bible was very limited outside of what she had learnt in school, and the half-understood, well known passages her mother told her in passing. 

But Emma deemed story of Cain and Abel a fun one from what she knew at least.  
Sibling rivalry with a moral! 

Her mother had tried to lecture them with the story the time Jane and Emma had been play fighting too loudly in the hallway over Emma accidentally taking Jane’s favourite pen. 

“Cain was so jealous of his brother’s success he killed Abel,” her mother had told them both with a glare, although it was more pointed at Emma. 

“Wow! You better watch out then Jane!” Emma had elbowed her.

“Dad can I get a lock on my door too!?” Jane, in teasing, had called out to their father. 

Emma rose up from the snow, examining her snowball. “But you just got that fancy internship, and the parents are pretty proud of you.” 

“Do you think? I thought it was just a small thing, thanks Em!” She gave two firm pats to her snowman’s head. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” 

“I guess you could even say they favour your work over mine, huh?” Emma paced slowly towards her oblivious sister. 

“Well I wouldn’t say that,” Jane tried to tell her, but it didn’t matter. 

“Looks like history is about to repeat itself, Jane!” She raised her voice with a laugh as she snuck up on her sister, dropping the snowball down on her sister’s head.

She squealed, running her hands through her hair and hunching her back to try and keep the snow off her head and from running down the back of her parka. She wiped her hands over her watery eyes as she laughed excitedly. 

“Hey!” She grabbed a chunk out of her snowman, starting to ball it up in her hands when Emma heard the creaking of the front steps under her dad’s weight. 

“Emma!” He growled out, storming the garden towards her. 

“No, it’s okay dad! She’s just playing!” Jane was still chuckling, but Emma knew better than to think she was getting away with it. 

“It was just a joke, sorry-!” She was halfway through an apology when her dad grabbed her by the elbow. He grabbed a palmful of snow from the snowman and brought it down on her head.

The cold sent spasms and chills down her spine and she tried to brush the snow from her hair but he held onto her arm.  
“You don’t throw snow! See? You don’t like how that feels and neither does Jane!” He held her arm tighter in an attempt to stop her shaking and squirming. 

“Dad! Let go!” She shook her head, brushing the snow off and trying to get rid of its remains from her chilled skin. 

“Dad, it’s okay! We were just playing,” Jane clung onto her father’s arm, desensitised and rather nonchalant about Emma’s treatment. “Let her go inside now, it’s cold.” 

He tore his arm back like she had been the one holding him. “Jane’s internship is important! If she gets sick from your little joke you’re going to be in trouble.”

“Well now I’m going to get sick, dad!” Emma was still trying to get the snow off her skin as she hurried back to the door.

“Well you can worry about that when you graduate and get your own job, Emma!” He shouted after her as she slammed the front door, kicking off her boots and trying to race to her room.

“Emma!” Her mother stopped her. “Can you come and show me how to turn the Bluetooth on on my phone?” She called from the living room. 

“Not right now!” She called back, fanning her numb hands.

“Emma, come here!” She called. “You have to show me. It’s not nice to walk away when I’m talking to you,” she scoffed.

“Just give me a sec, mum! I need to get changed!” She couldn’t shut out the disappointed, frustrated grumble from her mother when the door closed.  
She yanked her pyjama top off over her head, tossing it to the floor and collecting her blanket in her hands to burrow into it and wash away the cold. 

Her teeth were chattering, and she was too cold to be mad. She rubbed her blanket up against her skin until it was red and sore, but the cold still stuck to her bones. 

She grabbed a hoodie off the floor, burrowing through it before swinging her door back open to race to the bathroom. 

“Emma, can you show me now?” 

“Can you just give me one second mum!?” Emma snapped, her hands so numb she could barely turn the doorknob to the bathroom. 

“No, no! I’ve been waiting for you to get up all morning, come and show me. I don’t know how so you have to do it,” she held out her phone from where she sat on the other side of the living room. 

“Mum I’m literally freezing, dad just dumped snow down my fucking shirt and-“

“Watch your language, Emma! I did not carry you for nine months for you to never help me!” 

“Well did I ask to be born, mum? I don’t owe you anything for that!” She finally got the bathroom door opened and managed to lock it before her mum, now with her dad in tow, could chase her down for talking back. 

She turned on the hot water, allowing it to burn the back of her hand as she drew it back through the water. 

“Emma, come out here and apologise!” Her dad shouted through the door in his deep, booming voice. 

Emma sighed. She could pretend she didn’t hear him. She sat down with crossed legs besides the bathtub, resting her arms on the rim and letting the warm water run through her hair.

It dropped down her face and she had to close her eyes to keep the water out, but she let the steam drift up and soothe her. 

“Emma!” There was a frighteningly violent knock at the door. 

Emma made no move to turn the heat down, even when it was starting to burn. She just let it run over her head, washing the snow and the cold out of her hair. 

She would get out of this place soon. Really soon now. She can’t stand it another day. 

“Emma, if you aren’t out of the shower in ten minutes you’re going to be in trouble!” In the addition to the shouting was a loud bang of a fist against the door. 

Emma was too tired to even flinch. “Fuck you,” her voice was only a mumble. She didn’t care enough to put anything more into it. Had life always been this frustrating?

Just let the steam cloud everything else away. She could deal with those problems in ten minutes. Right now, the water burning at her skin and chasing the deep set throbbing in her bones was what she really cared about.

She should’ve listened. It was dumb to go out without warm clothes on. It was dumb to try and have fun with Jane, to even interact with her in her father’s presence. 

Oh well. That happened. She couldn’t change it now. She just had to work up the energy to fake an apology genuine enough. 

Or maybe it was something else she had to work up: the courage and the want to protect herself. 

Her body was so tired of fighting back.  
She rolled up her sleeves and stretched her hands out into the boiling water and just let it sting. 

It was warm. It was good. It was like a pair of arms enveloping her into a bubble of safety, because god, she knew she wasn’t getting a hug out of anyone else in this house. 

An escape was so close she could almost taste it. She had looked at her bank account the other day, almost drooling over the figure. Enough for a one way ticket out of this place. She knew she was leaving, she just wasn’t sure where to just yet.

That was how the story of Cain and Abel ended didn’t it? Not that Emma had ever read the story herself, but Cain got to be a wanderer for the rest of his life at the end of the story. 

That sounded good. She really eased into that thought. She was so calm she could have almost nodded off. 

But another part of her was sure that couldn’t be how the story ended. Especially knowing her luck - wandering the earth on her own sounded more like a reward than a punishment. 

She lifted her head up from underneath the water, wiping her eyes on her shoulder and groping for the hand towel on the counter. She wiped herself down and wrung out her hair, leaning back against the tile wall drowsily. 

She pulled her phone from her pants pocket, waiting patiently for a website containing the story to load.

In the meantime, she glanced at the time at the top of the screen. She had to start moving her ass soon.

She had the chance to find out how the story ended. When her mother had tried to tell them, she and Jane were in too much of a good mood to be scalded, and laughed and joked through the story until their father had to send them off to bed. 

The story was short, she wondered how happy she must’ve been to feel so confident in interrupting her mother to the point she couldn’t even finish it.

In the end, the way Cain was living was too much to bear. He begged the lord for his death, but the Lord refused, and kept him alive to live like that forever, never allowing him to escape the pain in his life. He just had to deal with it.

Emma shook her head. The story couldn’t end like that. No, no, no! 

She looked around the bathroom like she could find some comfort, that drowsy feeling in her head gone. 

She ran the towel through her hair before turning the shower tap off, feeling just a little bit dizzy when she stood up. 

She crept out into the hallway before peering her head into the living room.

Her parents were both waiting on the couch, Jane was nowhere to be seen.

“There you are! Come over here,” her father clicked his fingers at the small couch in the corner with the beer stain on the armrest. 

She sat herself down without complaint.

“What did you say to your mother?” He asked.

Emma tried to explain. Explain why she couldn’t stick around to help, explain the cold, explain the anger. But she fell short halfway through. Why should she even try to explain it with these two? 

“Emma, it would have taken two seconds to help your mother out. We cook your dinner, we buy your food, we pay the bills, is helping your mother really that much of a problem for you?” Her father growled, his voice loud.

Emma could try to explain how numb her fingers were, and how her body was stinging from the snow, and just how freezing she was. She could tell them that being a teenager and being good with technology were not necessarily correlated at all. 

But instead she sat there and nodded her head, her hands shoved into the pocket of her hoodie and balling up old tissues in her palms. 

The scolding continued, and she allowed it. That urge to defend herself just wasn’t there. 

Her dad was still scolding her when her mind drifted elsewhere, and she didn’t even make the effort to hide it. 

She could have a ferry ticket, and she could go to Clivesdale and live there. But things would still be the same.

She could have a train ticket, ride it across the state, wind up in another backwater town, and things would still be the same. 

Maybe a plane ticket was what she needed.  
She nodded at that though.  
She could have them in her hands, her passport in her pocket. She could leave this whole country behind. 

Her head was tilted so far back she was staring up at the roof now, her jaw slightly open, and her dad had started to shout because she clearly wasn’t paying attention. 

A smile tugged at the corner her lips. Wow. Leave this shithole town behind, leave the state, leave the country! How would anything hurt her then? 

“Emma, are you even listening to me?” 

Emma couldn’t hold back a small laugh as he broke her train of thought.  
That was it. She had found a way out, to go completely MIA.  
And it made her giggly, knowing just how close relied and freedom and happiness could truly be now. 

“Emma, we are trying to have a serious discussion with you, and you aren’t even paying attention. God. I don’t know what to do with you. What are you laughing at? Is this funny?” 

Emma laughed in between words. “Oh, sorry dad. I zoned out, I did. You know how much trouble I have concentrating. It’s why I’m so bad in school, that’s why Jane did so much better than me. I can’t concentrate, isn’t that so bad? I have to work on that. And I have to be kinder to the both of you. I think you taught me a really important lesson today, dad. And to make it up to you I’m going to get started on my chores right away.” 

Both her parents shared a surprised looked, before glancing back at Emma.

“Good. Go,” he pointed off to her room. Her turnabout was shocking enough to let her off mostly unscathed, not that she could confirm what was said about her when she tuned out. And that was probably for the better.

She shut her door and slumped down on the other side, leaning against the frame to keep anyone from coming in. 

A tingly feeling burst out in her chest.  
There it was again. That urge to fight for herself, the desire for self preservation. She hadn’t given up just yet, she wasn’t hopeless.

Her life wouldn’t wind up like that story. She could escape. She had seen a way to live on, and maybe if she tried hard enough, she could be out of here for good.

**Author's Note:**

> Tea but I fully don’t know what this fic was about at all I just wanted to write some home life Emma


End file.
